Despite the heat, I spent the rest of the afternoon pulling weeds, and afterward1 I showered before heading off to the grocery store. It was, after all, Saturday—my day to cook—and I had decided2 to try my hand at a new recipe that called for side dishes of bow-tie pasta and vegetables. Though I knew this would probably be enough for both of us, I decided at the last minute to make appetizers3 and a Caesar salad as well.
By five o’clock, I was in the kitchen; by five-thirty, the appetizers were well under way. I had prepared mushrooms stuffed with sausage and cream cheese, and they were warming in the oven next to the bread I’d picked up at the bakery. I’d just finished setting the table and was opening a bottle of Merlot when I heard Jane come in the front door.
“Hello?” she called out.
“I’m in the dining room,” I said.
When she rounded the corner, I was struck by how radiant she looked. While my thinning hair is speckled with gray, hers is still as dark and full as the day I married her. She had tucked a few strands6 behind her ear, and around her neck I saw the small diamond pendant I’d purchased in the first few years of our marriage. As preoccupied7 as I might have been at times during our marriage, I can honestly say that I have never grown inured8 to her beauty. “Wow,” she said. “It smells great in here. What’s for dinner?” “Veal9 marsala,” I announced, reaching to pour her a glass of wine. I crossed the room and handed it to her. As I studied her face, I noticed that the anxiety of the night before had been replaced with a look of excitement that I hadn’t seen for quite some time. I could already tell that things had gone well for her and Anna, and though I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath, I felt myself exhale10 in relief.
“You’re not going to believe what happened today,” she gushed11. “Even when I tell you, you’re not going to believe it.”
Taking a sip12 of wine, she grasped my arm to steady herself as she slid one foot and then the other out of her shoe. I felt the warmth of her touch even after she let go.
“What is it?” I asked. “What happened?”
She motioned enthusiastically with her free hand. “C’mon,” she said. “Follow me into the kitchen while I tell you about it. I’m starved. We were so busy we didn’t have time for lunch. By the time we realized that it was time to eat, most of the restaurants were closed and we still had a few places to visit before Anna had to get back. Thank you for making dinner, by the way. I completely forgot it was your day to cook, and I was trying to think of an excuse to order in.”
She kept talking as she moved through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
Trailing behind her, I admired the subtle movement of her hips13 as she walked. “Anyway, I think Anna’s sort of getting into it now. She seemed a lot more enthusiastic than she did last night.” Jane glanced at me over her shoulder, eyes gleaming. “But oh, just wait. You’re not going to believe it.” The kitchen counters were crowded with preparations for the main course: sliced veal, assorted14 vegetables, a cutting board and knife. I slipped on an oven mitt15 to remove the appetizers and set the baking sheet on the stovetop. “Here,” I said.
She looked at me in surprise. “They’re already done?”
“Lucky timing16.” I shrugged17.
Jane reached for a mushroom and took a bite.
“So this morning, I picked her up . . . Wow, this is really good.” She paused, suddenly examining the mushroom. She took another bite and let it roll around in her mouth before going on. “Anyway, the first thing we did was discuss possible photographers—someone a lot more qualified18 than me. I know there are a few studios downtown, but I was certain we wouldn’t be able to find anyone last minute. So last night, I got to thinking that Claire’s son might be able to do it. He’s taking classes in photography at Carteret Community College, and that’s what he wants to do when he graduates. I’d called Claire this morning and said that we might be stopping by, but Anna wasn’t so sure since she’d never seen any of his work. My other idea was to use someone she knows at the newspaper, but Anna told me that the newspaper frowns on that kind of freelance work. Anyway, to make a long story short, she wanted to check the studios on the off chance that someone might be available. And you’ll never guess what happened.” “Tell me,” I said.
Jane popped the last of the mushroom into her mouth, letting the anticipation19 build. The tips of her fingers were shiny as she reached for another mushroom. “These are really good,” she enthused. “Is this a new recipe?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Is it complicated?”
“Not really,” I said, shrugging.
She drew a deep breath. “So anyway, just like I thought, the first two places we visited were booked. But then we went to Cayton’s Studio. Have you ever seen the wedding pictures Jim Cayton does?”
“I’ve heard he’s the best around.”
“He’s amazing,” she said. “His work is stunning20. Even Anna was impressed, and
you know how she is. He did Dana Crowe’s wedding, remember? He’s usually booked
six or seven months in advance, and even then he’s hard to get. I mean, there wasn’t a chance, right? But when I asked his wife—she’s the one who runs the studio—she told me that he’d had a recent cancellation21.” She took another bite of her appetizer4, chewing slowly. “And it just so happens,” she announced with the faintest of shrugs22, “that he was open for next Saturday.”
I raised my eyebrows23. “That’s wonderful,” I said.
Now that the climax24 had been revealed, she began to speak more quickly, filling in the rest of the blanks.
“Oh, you can’t believe how happy Anna was. Jim Cayton? Even if we had a year to plan, he’s the one I would have wanted. We must have spent a couple of hours flipping25 through some of the albums they’ve put together, just to get ideas. Anna would ask me whether I liked these types of shots, or I’d ask which ones she liked. I’m sure Mrs. Cayton thinks we’re crazy. As soon as we’d finish an album, we’d ask for another—she was kind enough to answer every question we had. By the time we left, I think both of us were just pinching ourselves at how lucky we’d been.”
“I’ll bet.”
“So after that,” she continued breezily, “we headed out to the bakeries. Again, it took a couple of stops, but I wasn’t too worried about getting a cake. It’s not as if they have to prepare them months in advance, right? Anyway, we found a small place that could do it, but I didn’t realize how many choices they have. There was an entire catalog devoted26 to wedding cakes. They have big cakes and small cakes, and every size in between. Then, of course, you have to decide what flavor you want it, what kind of frosting, the shape, what additional decorations and all those kinds of things. . . .”
“Sounds exciting,” I said.
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “You don’t know the half of it,” she said, and I laughed at her obvious joy.
The stars weren’t often in alignment27, but tonight they seemed to be. Her mood was rapturous, the evening was young, and Jane and I were about to enjoy a romantic meal together. All seemed right with the world, and as I stood beside my wife of three decades, I suddenly knew that the day couldn’t have gone any better had I planned it in advance.
While I finished preparing dinner, Jane continued filling me in on the rest of her day, going into detail about the cake (two layers, vanilla28 flavoring, sour cream frosting) and the photographs (Cayton fixes any imperfections on the computer). In the warm light of the kitchen, I could just make out the soft creases30 around the corners of her eyes, the feathery markings of our life together.
“I’m glad it went well,” I said. “And considering it was your first day, you actually got quite a bit done.”
The smell of melted butter filled the kitchen, and the veal began to sizzle slightly.
“I know. And I am happy, believe me,” she said. “But we still don’t know where we should have the ceremony, and until then, I don’t know how to make the rest of the arrangements. I’d told Anna that we could have it here if she wanted, but she wasn’t too keen on the idea.”
“What does she want?”
“She isn’t sure yet. She thinks she might want to have a garden wedding of some sort. Someplace not too formal.”
“It shouldn’t be too hard to find a place.”
“You’d be surprised. The only place I could think of was the Tryon Palace, but I don’t think we’ll be able to do that on such short notice. I don’t even know if they allow weddings there.”
“Mmm . . .” I added salt, pepper, and garlic powder to the pan. “The Orton Plantation31 is nice, too. Remember? That’s where we went to the Brattons’ wedding last year.”
I remembered; it was in between Wilmington and Southport, almost two hours from New Bern. “It is sort of out of the way, isn’t it?” I asked. “Considering most of the guests are from around here?”
“I know. It was just an idea. I’m sure it’s booked anyway.”
“How about someplace downtown? At one of the bed-and-breakfasts?” She shook her head. “I think most of them might be too small—and I don’t know how many have gardens—but I suppose I can look into it. And if that doesn’t work . . . well, we’ll find someplace. At least I hope we can.” Jane frowned, lost in thought. She leaned against the counter and propped32 her stockinged foot against the cabinet behind her, for all the world the same young girl who talked me into walking her to her car. The second time I walked her to her car, I assumed she would simply get in her car and drive away, as she had the first time. Instead she’d struck just the same pose against the driver’s-side door, and we had what I consider to be our first conversation. I remember marveling at her animated33 features as she recounted the details of her life growing up in New Bern, and it was the first time I sensed the attributes I would always cherish: her intelligence and passion, her charm, the carefree way she seemed to view the world. Years later, she showed the same traits when raising our children, and I know it’s one of the reasons they’ve become the kind and responsible adults they are today.
Breaking into Jane’s distracted reverie, I cleared my throat. “I went to visit Noah today,” I said.
At my words, Jane resurfaced. “How’s he doing?”
“Okay. He looked tired, but he was in good spirits.”
“Was he at the pond again?”
“Yes,” I said. Anticipating her next question, I added: “The swan was there, too.”
She pressed her lips together, but not wanting to ruin her mood, I quickly went on.
“I told him about the wedding,” I said.
“Was he excited?”
“Very.” I nodded. “He told me he’s looking forward to being there.” Jane brought her hands together. “I’m bringing Anna by tomorrow. She didn’t have a chance to see him last week, and I know she’s going to want to tell him about it.” She smiled appreciatively. “And by the way, thanks for going out to see him today. I know how much he enjoys that.”
“You know I like to spend time with him, too.”
“I know. But thank you anyway.”
The meat was ready, and I added the rest of the ingredients: marsala wine, lemon juice, mushrooms, beef broth35, minced36 shallot, diced37 green onions. I added another dab38 of butter for good measure, rewarding myself for the twenty pounds I’d lost in the last year.
“Have you talked to Joseph or Leslie yet?” I asked. For a moment, Jane watched me as I stirred. Then, after retrieving39 a spoon from the drawer, she dipped the tip into the sauce and tasted it. “This is good,” she commented, raising her eyebrows.
“You sound surprised.”
“No, I’m really not. You’re actually quite the chef these days. At least compared to where you started.”
“What? You didn’t always love my cooking?”
She brought a finger to her chin. “Let’s just say burned mashed40 potatoes and crunchy gravy41 are an acquired taste.”
I smiled, knowing what she said was true. My first few experiences in the kitchen had been less than an earth-shattering success. Jane took another taste before setting the spoon on the counter.
“Wilson? About the wedding . . . ,” she began.
I glanced at her. “Yes?”
“You do know it’s going to be expensive to get a ticket for Joseph at the last minute, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And the photographer isn’t cheap, even if there was a cancellation.”
I nodded. “I figured that.”
“And the cake is kind of pricey, too. For a cake, I mean.”
“No problem. It’s for a lot of people, right?”
She looked at me curiously42, clearly stumped43 by my answers. “Well . . . I just wanted to warn you in advance so you won’t get upset.” “How could I get upset?”
“Oh, you know. Sometimes you get upset when things start getting expensive.”
“I do?”
Jane cocked a brow. “Don’t bother pretending. Don’t you remember how you were with all the renovations? Or when the heat pump kept breaking? You even shine your own shoes. . . .”
I raised my hands in playful surrender. “Okay, you made your point,” I said.
“But don’t worry. This is different.” I looked up, knowing I had her attention.
“Even if we spend everything we have, it’ll still be worth it.” She almost choked on her wine and stared at me. Then, after a long moment, she took a sudden step forward and poked44 my arm with her finger. “What’s that for?” I asked.
“Just checking to see if you’re really my husband, or if you’ve been replaced by one of the pod-people.”
“Pod-people?”
“Yeah. Invasion of the Body Snatchers. You remember the movie, right?”
“Of course. But it’s really me,” I said.
“Thank goodness,” she said, feigning45 relief. Then, wonder of wonders, she winked46 at me. “But I still wanted to warn you.”
I smiled, feeling as if my heart had just been inflated47. How long had it been, I wondered, since we’d laughed and joked in the kitchen like this? Months? Years, even? Even though I realized that it might be only temporary, it nonetheless stoked the small flame of hope I had begun to nurture48 in secret. The first date that Jane and I went on didn’t go exactly as I’d planned. I’d made reservations at Harper’s, which was regarded as the best restaurant in town. Also the most expensive. I had enough money to cover the cost of dinner, but I knew I would have to budget the rest of the month to pay my other bills. I’d also planned something special for afterward.
I picked her up in front of her dormitory at Meredith, and the drive to the restaurant took only a few minutes. Our conversation was typical of first dates and simply skimmed the surface of things. We spoke49 about school and how chilly50 it was, and I noted51 that it was a good thing we both brought jackets. I also remember mentioning that I thought her sweater was lovely, and she mentioned that she’d purchased it the day before. Though I wondered if she had done this in anticipation of our date, I knew enough not to ask her directly. Owing to holiday shoppers, it was difficult to find a space near the restaurant, so we parked a couple of blocks away. I’d allotted52 plenty of time, however, and felt sure we would arrive at the restaurant in time to make our reservation. On the way to the restaurant, the tips of our noses turned red and our breath came out in little clouds. A few of the shop windows were ringed with twinkling lights, and as we passed one of the neighborhood pizza parlors54, we could hear Christmas music coming from the jukebox inside.
It was as we were approaching the restaurant that we saw the dog. Cowering55 in an alley56, he was medium size but skinny and covered in grime. He was shivering, and his coat made it plain that he had been on the run for quite a while. I moved between Jane and the dog in case he was dangerous, but Jane stepped around me and squatted57 down, trying to get the dog’s attention. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “We won’t hurt you.”
The dog shrank back farther into the shadows.
“He’s got a collar,” Jane pointed58 out. “I’ll bet he’s lost.” She didn’t look away from the dog, who seemed to be studying her with wary59 interest. Checking my watch, I saw that we had a few minutes to spare until our reservation came up. Though I still wasn’t sure whether or not the dog was dangerous, I squatted beside Jane and began speaking to him in the same soothing60 tones that she was using. This went on for a short while, but still the dog remained where he was. Jane took a small step toward him, but the dog whined61, skittering away.
“He’s scared,” she said, looking worried. “What should we do? I don’t want to leave him out here. It’s supposed to fall below freezing tonight. And if he’s lost, I’m sure all he wants is to get back home.”
I suppose I could have said just about anything. I could have told her that we tried, or that we could call the pound, or even that we could come back after dinner, and if he was still around that we could try again. But Jane’s expression stopped me. Her face was a mixture of worry and defiance—the first inkling I had of Jane’s kindness and concern for those less fortunate. I knew then that I had no choice but to go along with what she wanted. “Let me try,” I said.
In all honesty, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Growing up, I’d never owned a dog for the simple reason that my mother had been allergic62 to them, but I held out my hand and continued to whisper to him, resorting to what I had seen people do in the movies.
I let the dog get used to my voice, and when I slowly inched forward, the dog remained in place. Not wanting to startle the mutt, I stopped, let him get used to me for a moment, and inched forward again. After what seemed forever, I was close enough to the dog that when I held out my hand, he stretched his nose toward it. Then, deciding he had nothing to fear from me, he let his tongue flicker63 against my fingers. A moment later, I was able to stroke his head, and I glanced over my shoulder at Jane.
“He likes you,” she said, looking amazed.
I shrugged. “I guess he does.”
I was able to read the phone number on the collar, and Jane went into the bookstore next door to call the owner from a pay phone. While she was gone, I waited with the dog, and the more I stroked him, the more he seemed to crave64 the touch of my hand. When Jane returned, we waited for nearly twenty minutes until the owner arrived to claim him. He was in his mid-thirties, and he practically bounded from the car. Immediately the dog surged to the man’s side, tail wagging. After taking time to acknowledge the sloppy65 licks, the man turned to us.
“Thank you so much for calling,” he said. “He’s been gone for a week, and my son’s been crying himself to sleep every night. You have no idea how much this will mean to him. Getting his dog back was the only thing he put on his Christmas list.”
Though he offered a reward, neither Jane nor I was willing to take it, and he thanked us both again before getting back into his car. As we watched him go, I believe we both felt we’d done something worthy66. After the sounds of the engine faded away, Jane took my arm.
“Can we still make our reservation?” she asked.
I checked my watch. “We’re half an hour late.”
“They should still have our table, right?”
“I don’t know. It was tough to get one in the first place. I had to have one of my professors call for me.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” she said.
We didn’t. By the time we got to the restaurant, our table had been given away, and the next available slot was for nine forty-five. Jane looked up at me. “At least we made a child happy,” she said.
“I know.” I took a deep breath. “And I’d do it again, too.” Studying me for a moment, she gave my arm a squeeze. “I’m glad we stopped, too, even if we don’t get to have dinner here.”
Surrounded by a streetlight halo, she looked almost ethereal.
“Is there anyplace else you’d like to go?” I asked.
She tilted67 her head. “Do you like music?”
Ten minutes later, we were seated at a table in the pizza parlor53 we’d passed earlier. Though I’d planned on candlelight and wine, we ended up ordering beer with our pizza.
Jane, however, didn’t seem disappointed. She spoke easily, telling me about her classes in Greek mythology68 and English literature, her years at Meredith, her friends, and anything else that happened to be on her mind. For the most part, I simply nodded and asked enough questions to keep her talking for the next two hours, and I can honestly say that I’d never enjoyed someone’s company more. In the kitchen, I noticed that Jane was eyeing me curiously. Forcing the memory away, I put the finishing touches on our meal and brought the food to the table. After taking our places, we bowed our heads and I said grace, thanking God for all that we had been given.
“You okay? You seemed preoccupied a couple of minutes ago,” Jane commented as she forked some salad into her bowl.
I poured a glass of wine for each of us. “Actually, I was remembering our first date,” I said.
“You were?” Her fork stopped in midair. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” I said. I slid her glass toward her. “Do you even remember it?” “Of course I remember,” she chided me. “It was right before we went home for Christmas break. We were supposed to go to dinner at Harper’s, but we found a stray, and we missed our reservation. So we had dinner at this little pizza place down the street instead. And after that . . .”
She squinted69, trying to recall the exact order of events. “We got in the car and drove out to see the decorations along Havermill Road, right? You insisted that I get out of the car so we could walk around, even though it was freezing. One of the houses had set up Santa’s village, and when you walked me over, the man dressed as Santa handed me the gift that you’d picked out for me for Christmas. I remember being amazed that you’d gone through all that trouble on a first date.”
“Do you remember what I got you?”
“How could I forget?” She grinned. “An umbrella.”
“If I recall correctly, you didn’t seem too thrilled about it.” “Well,” she said, throwing up her hands, “how was I supposed to meet any guys after that? Having someone walk me to my car was my modus operandi back then. You have to remember that at Meredith, the only men around were teachers or janitors70.”
“That’s why I picked it out,” I said. “I knew exactly how you operated.” “You didn’t have a clue,” she said with a smirk71. “I was the first girl you ever dated.”
“No, you weren’t. I’d dated before.”
Her eyes were playful. “Okay, the first girl you’d ever kissed, then.” This was true, though I’ve come to regret that I ever told her this, since she’s never forgotten this fact and it tends to come up in moments like this. In my defense72, however, I said: “I was too busy preparing for my future. I didn’t have time for such a thing.”
“You were shy.”
“I was studious. There’s a difference.”
“Don’t you remember our dinner? Or the drive over? You barely said anything to me at all, except about your classes.”
“I talked about more than that,” I said. “I told you that I liked your sweater, remember?”
“That doesn’t count.” She winked. “You were just lucky I was so patient with you.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “I was.”
I said it the way I would have wanted to hear it from her, and I think she caught the tone in my voice. She smiled briefly73.
“Do you know what I remember most from that night?” I went on.
“My sweater?”
My wife, I should add, has always had a quick wit. I laughed but was clearly in a more reflective mood and went on. “I liked the way you stopped for the dog, and were unwilling74 to leave until you made sure he was safe. It told me your heart was in the right place.”
I could have sworn she blushed at my comment, but she quickly picked up her wineglass, so I couldn’t be sure. Before she could say anything, I changed the subject.
“So is Anna getting nervous yet?” I asked.
Jane shook her head. “Not at all. She doesn’t seem worried in the slightest. I guess she believes that it’s all going to work out, like it did today with the pictures and the cake. This morning, when I showed her the list of all we had to do, all she said was, ‘I guess we’d better get started, then, huh?’” I nodded. I could imagine Anna saying those words.
“What about her friend, the pastor75?” I asked.
“She said she called him last night, and he said he’d be happy to do it.”
“That’s good. One less thing,” I offered.
“Mmm.” Jane fell silent. I knew her mind was beginning to turn to the activities of the coming week.
“I think I’m going to need your help,” she said at last.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, you’ll need a tux for you, Keith, and Joseph, of course. And Daddy, too.
. . .”
“No problem.”
She shifted in her seat. “And Anna is supposed to be getting the names of some of the people she’d like to invite. We don’t have time to send any invitations, so someone’s going to have to call. And since I’m out and about with Anna, and you’re on vacation . . .”
I held up my hands. “I’d be glad to take care of it,” I said. “I’ll start tomorrow.”
“Do you know where the address book is?”
This is the type of question with which I’ve become quite familiar over the years. Jane has long believed that I have a natural inability to find certain items within our home. She also believes that while I misplace objects occasionally, I have assigned her the responsibility of knowing exactly where it is I might have misplaced them. Neither of these things, I might add, is completely my fault. While it’s true that I don’t know where every item in the house is located, this has more to do with different filing systems than any ineptitude76 on my part. My wife, for instance, believes the flashlight logically belongs in one of the kitchen drawers, while my reasoning tells me it should be in the pantry where we keep the washer and dryer78. As a result, it shifts from one location to the next, and because I work outside the home, it’s impossible for me to keep up with such things. If I set my car keys on the counter, for instance, my instincts tell me they will still be there when I go to look for them, while Jane automatically believes that I will look for them on the bulletin board near the door. As to the location of the address book, it was plain to me that it was in the drawer by the phone. That’s where I put it the last time I used it, and I was just about to say this when Jane spoke up. “It’s on the shelf next to the cookbooks.”
I looked at her.
“Of course it is,” I agreed.
The easy mood between us lasted until we finished dinner and began to clear the table.
Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the quick banter79 between us gave way to more stilted80 conversation, punctuated81 by longer pauses. By the time we’d started to clean the kitchen, we had retreated into a familiar dialogue, in which the most animated sound came not from either of us, but from the scraping of plates in the kitchen.
I can’t explain why this happened, other than to say that we’d run out of things to say to each other. She asked about Noah a second time, and I repeated what I’d said previously82. A minute later, she started speaking of the photographer again, but halfway83 through her story, she stopped herself, knowing she’d already recounted that as well. Because neither of us had spoken to Joseph or Leslie, there was no news on those fronts, either. And as for work, because I was out of the office, I had nothing whatsoever84 to add, even in an offhanded85 way. I could feel the earlier mood of the evening beginning to slip away and wanted to prevent the inevitable86 from happening. My mind began to search for something, anything, and I finally cleared my throat.
“Did you hear about the shark attack down in Wilmington?” I asked.
“You mean the one last week? With the girl?”
“Yes,” I said, “that’s the one.”
“You told me about it.”
“I did?”
“Last week. You read me the article.”
I washed her wineglass by hand, then rinsed87 the colander88. I could hear her sorting through the cupboards for the Tupperware.
“What a horrible way to start a vacation,” she remarked. “Her family hadn’t even finished unpacking89 the car yet.”
The plates came next, and I scraped the remains90 into the sink. I turned on the garbage disposal, and the rumbling91 seemed to echo against the walls, underscoring the silence between us. When it stopped, I put the plates into the dishwasher.
“I pulled some weeds in the garden,” I said.
“I thought you just did that a few days ago.”
“I did.”
I loaded the utensils92 and rinsed the salad tongs93. I turned the water on and off, slid the dishwasher rack in and out.
“I hope you didn’t stay in the sun too long,” she said. She mentioned this because my father had died of a heart attack while washing the car when he was sixty-one years old. Heart disease ran in my family, and I knew it was something that worried Jane. Though we were less like lovers than friends these days, I knew that Jane would always care for me. Caring was part of her nature and always would be.
Her siblings94 are the same way, and I attribute that to Noah and Allie. Hugs and laughter were a staple95 in their home, a place where practical jokes were relished96, because no one ever suspected meanness. I’ve often wondered about the person I would have become had I been born into that family. “It’s supposed to be hot again tomorrow,” Jane said, breaking into my thoughts.
“I heard on the news it’s supposed to hit ninety-five degrees,” I concurred97.
“And the humidity is supposed to be high, too.”
“Ninety-five?”
“That’s what they said.”
“That’s too hot.”
Jane put the leftovers98 into the refrigerator as I wiped the counters. After our earlier intimacy99, the lack of meaningful conversation seemed deafening100. From the expression on Jane’s face, I knew she too was disappointed by this return to our normal state of affairs. She patted her dress, as if looking for words in her pockets. Finally, she drew a deep breath and forced a smile. “I think I’ll give Leslie a call,” she said.
A moment later, I was standing101 in the kitchen alone, wishing again that I were someone else and wondering whether it was even possible for us to start over. In the two weeks following our first date, Jane and I saw each other five more times before she returned to New Bern for the Christmas holidays. We studied together twice, went to a movie once, and spent two afternoons walking through the campus of Duke University.
But there was one particular walk that will always stand out in my mind. It was a gloomy day, having rained all morning, and gray clouds stretched across the sky, making it look almost like dusk. It was Sunday, two days after we’d saved the stray, and Jane and I were strolling among the various buildings on campus. “What are your parents like?” she asked.
I took a few steps before answering. “They’re good people,” I finally said. She waited for more, but when I didn’t answer, she nudged my shoulder with her own.
“That’s all you can say?”
I knew this was her attempt to get me to open up, and though it wasn’t something I’d ever been comfortable doing, I knew that Jane would keep prodding102 me—gently and persistently—until I did. She was smart in a way that few others were, not only academically, but about people as well. Especially me. “I don’t know what else to tell you,” I said. “They’re just typical parents. They work for the government and they’ve lived in a town house in Dupont Circle for almost twenty years. That’s in D.C., where I grew up. I think they thought about buying a house in the suburbs some years back, but neither one of them wanted to deal with the commute103, so we stayed where we were.” “Did you have a backyard?”
“No. There was a nice courtyard, though, and sometimes weeds would sprout104 between the bricks.”
She laughed. “Where did your parents meet?”
“Washington. They both grew up there, and they met when they both worked for the Department of Transportation. I guess they were in the same office for a while, but that’s all I know for sure. They never said much more than that.” “Do they have any hobbies?”
I considered her question as I pictured both my parents. “My mom likes to write letters to the editor of The Washington Post,” I said. “I think she wants to change the world. She’s always taking the side of the downtrodden, and of course, she’s never short of ideas to make the world a better place. She must write at least a letter a week. Not all of them get printed, but she cuts out the ones that do and posts them in a scrapbook. And my dad . . . he’s on the quiet side. He likes to build ships in bottles. He must have made hundreds over the years, and when we ran out of space on the shelves, he started donating them to schools to display in the libraries. Kids love them.” “Do you do that, too?”
“No. That’s my dad’s escape. He wasn’t all that interested in teaching me how to do it, since he thought I should have my own hobby. But I could watch him work, as long as I didn’t touch anything.”
“That’s sad.”
“It didn’t bother me,” I countered. “I never knew any different, and it was interesting. Quiet, but interesting. He didn’t talk much as he worked, but it was nice spending time with him.”
“Did he play catch with you? Or go bike riding?”
“No. He wasn’t much of an outdoor guy. Just the ships. It taught me a lot about patience.”
She lowered her gaze, watching her steps as she walked, and I knew she was comparing it to her own upbringing.
“And you’re an only child?” she continued.
Though I’d never told anyone else, I found myself wanting to tell her why. Even then, I wanted her to know me, to know everything about me. “My mom couldn’t have any more kids. She had some sort of hemorrhage when I was born, and it was just too risky105 after that.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“I think she was, too.”
By that point, we’d reached the main chapel106 on campus, and Jane and I paused for a moment to admire the architecture.
“That’s the most you’ve ever told me about yourself in one stretch,” she remarked.
“It’s probably more than I’ve told anyone.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw her tuck a strand5 of hair behind her ear. “I think I understand you a little better now,” she said. I hesitated. “Is that a good thing?”
Instead of answering, Jane turned toward me and I suddenly realized that I already knew the answer.
I suppose I should remember exactly how it happened, but to be honest, the following moments are lost to me. In one instant, I reached for her hand, and in the next, I found myself pulling her gently toward me. She looked faintly startled, but when she saw my face moving toward hers, she closed her eyes, accepting what I was about to do. She leaned in, and as her lips touched mine, I knew that I would remember our first kiss forever.
Listening to Jane as she spoke on the phone with Leslie, I thought she sounded a lot like the girl who’d walked by my side on campus that day. Her voice was animated and the words flowed freely; I heard her laughing as if Leslie were in the room.
I sat on the couch half a room away, listening with half an ear. Jane and I used to walk and talk for hours, but now there were others who seemed to have taken my place. With the children, Jane was never at a loss as to what to say, nor did she struggle when she visited her father. Her circle of friends is quite large, and she visited easily with them as well. I wondered what they would think if they spent a typical evening with us.
Were we the only couple with this problem? Or was it common in all long marriages, an inevitable function of time? Logic77 seemed to infer it was the latter, yet it nonetheless pained me to realize that her levity107 would be gone the moment she hung up the phone. Instead of easy banter, we’d speak in platitudes108 and the magic would be gone, and I couldn’t bear another discussion of the weather.
What to do, though? That was the question that plagued me. In the span of an hour, I’d viewed both our marriages, and I knew which one I preferred, which one I thought we deserved.
In the background, I heard Jane beginning to wind down with Leslie. There’s a pattern when a call is nearing an end, and I knew Jane’s as well as my own. Soon I would hear her tell our daughter that she loved her, pause as Leslie said it back to her, then say good-bye. Knowing it was coming—and suddenly deciding to take a chance—I rose from the couch and turned to face her. I was going to walk across the room, I told myself, and reach for her hand, just as I had outside the chapel at Duke. She would wonder what was happening—just as she wondered then—but I’d pull her body next to mine. I’d touch her face, then slowly close my eyes, and as soon as my lips touched hers, she’d know that it was unlike any kiss she’d ever received from me. It would be new but familiar; appreciative34 but filled with longing109; and its very inspiration would evoke110 the same feelings in her. It would be, I thought, a new beginning to our lives, just as our first kiss had been so long ago.
I could imagine it clearly, and a moment later, I heard her say her final words and hit the button to hang up the call. It was time, and gathering111 my courage, I started toward her.
Jane’s back was to me, her hand still on the phone. She paused for a moment, staring out the living room window, watching the gray sky as it slowly darkened in color. She was the greatest person I’ve ever known, and I would tell her this in the moments following our kiss.
I kept moving. She was close now, close enough for me to catch the familiar scent112 of her perfume. I could feel my heart speed up. Almost there, I realized, but when I was close enough to touch her hand, she suddenly raised the phone again. Her movements were quick and efficient; she merely pressed two buttons. The number is on speed dial, and I knew exactly what she’d done. A moment later, when Joseph answered the phone, I lost my resolve, and it was all I could do to make my way back to the couch.
For the next hour or so, I sat beneath the lamp, the biography of Roosevelt open in my lap.
Though she’d asked me to call the guests, after hanging up with Joseph, Jane made a few calls to those who were closest to the family. I understood her eagerness, but it left us in separate worlds until after nine, and I came to the conclusion that unrealized hopes, even small ones, were always wrenching113. When Jane finished, I tried to catch her eye. Instead of joining me on the couch, she retrieved114 a bag from the table by the front door, one I hadn’t noticed she’d brought in.
“I picked these up for Anna on the way home,” she said, waving a couple of bridal magazines, “but before I give them to her, I want to have a chance to look through them first.”
I forced a smile, knowing the rest of the evening would be lost. “Good idea,” I said.
As we settled into silence—me on the couch, Jane in the recliner—I found my gaze drawn115 surreptitiously toward her. Her eyes flickered116 as she looked from one gown to the next; I saw her crease29 the corners of various pages. Her eyes, like mine, are not as strong as they once were, and I noticed that she had to crane her neck back, as if looking down her nose to see more clearly. Every now and then, I heard her whisper something, an understated exclamation117, and I knew she was picturing Anna wearing whatever was on the page.
Watching her expressive118 face, I marveled at the fact that at one time or another, I’d kissed every part of it. I’ve never loved anyone but you, I wanted to say, but common sense prevailed, reminding me that it would be better to save those words for another time, when I had her full attention and the words might be reciprocated119.
As the evening wore on, I continued to watch her while pretending to read my book. I could do this all night, I thought, but weariness set in, and I was certain that Jane would stay awake for at least another hour. The creased120 pages would call to her if she didn’t look at them a second time, and she had yet to make her way through both magazines.
“Jane?” I said.
“Mmm?” she answered automatically.
“I have an idea.”
“About what?” She continued staring at the page.
“Where we should hold the wedding.”
My words finally registered and she looked up.
“It might not be perfect, but I’m sure it would be available,” I said. “It’s outside and there’s plenty of parking. And there’re flowers, too. Thousands of flowers.”
“Where?”
I hesitated.
“At Noah’s house,” I said. “Under the trellis by the roses.”
Jane’s mouth opened and closed; she blinked rapidly, as if clearing her sight.
But then, ever so slowly, she began to smile.
收听单词发音 |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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appetizers
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| n.开胃品( appetizer的名词复数 )；促进食欲的活动；刺激欲望的东西；吊胃口的东西 | |
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appetizer
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| n.小吃，开胃品 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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strands
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| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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inured
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| adj.坚强的，习惯的 | |
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veal
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| n.小牛肉 | |
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exhale
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| v.呼气，散出，吐出，蒸发 | |
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gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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mitt
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| n.棒球手套，拳击手套，无指手套；vt.铐住，握手 | |
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timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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cancellation
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| n.删除，取消 | |
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shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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flipping
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| 讨厌之极的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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alignment
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| n.队列；结盟，联合 | |
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vanilla
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| n.香子兰，香草 | |
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crease
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| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
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creases
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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minced
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| v.切碎( mince的过去式和过去分词 )；剁碎；绞碎；用绞肉机绞（食物，尤指肉） | |
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diced
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| v.将…切成小方块，切成丁( dice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dab
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| v.轻触，轻拍，轻涂；n.(颜料等的)轻涂 | |
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retrieving
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| n.检索（过程），取还v.取回( retrieve的现在分词 )；恢复；寻回；检索（储存的信息） | |
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mashed
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| a.捣烂的 | |
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gravy
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| n.肉汁；轻易得来的钱，外快 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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stumped
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| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的过去式和过去分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
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44
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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45
feigning
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| 假装，伪装( feign的现在分词 )； 捏造（借口、理由等） | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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47
inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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48
nurture
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| n.养育，照顾，教育；滋养，营养品；vt.养育，给与营养物，教养，扶持 | |
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49
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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50
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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parlors
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| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
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55
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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56
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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57
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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61
whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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allergic
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| adj.过敏的，变态的 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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64
crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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sloppy
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| adj.邋遢的，不整洁的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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mythology
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| n.神话，神话学，神话集 | |
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69
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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janitors
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| n.看门人( janitor的名词复数 )；看管房屋的人；锅炉工 | |
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71
smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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72
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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73
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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ineptitude
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| n.不适当；愚笨，愚昧的言行 | |
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77
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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78
dryer
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| n.干衣机，干燥剂 | |
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banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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80
stilted
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| adj.虚饰的；夸张的 | |
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81
punctuated
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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82
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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84
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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85
offhanded
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| adj.立即的，即席的 | |
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86
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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87
rinsed
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| v.漂洗( rinse的过去式和过去分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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colander
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| n.滤器，漏勺 | |
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89
unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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91
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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92
utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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tongs
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| n.钳；夹子 | |
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siblings
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| n.兄弟，姐妹( sibling的名词复数 ) | |
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95
staple
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| n.主要产物，常用品，主要要素，原料，订书钉，钩环；adj.主要的，重要的；vt.分类 | |
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96
relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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concurred
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| 同意（concur的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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98
leftovers
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| n.剩余物，残留物，剩菜 | |
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99
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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100
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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101
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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102
prodding
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| v.刺，戳( prod的现在分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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103
commute
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| vi.乘车上下班；vt.减(刑)；折合；n.上下班交通 | |
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104
sprout
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| n.芽，萌芽；vt.使发芽，摘去芽；vi.长芽，抽条 | |
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105
risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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106
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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107
levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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108
platitudes
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| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
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109
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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110
evoke
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| vt.唤起，引起，使人想起 | |
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111
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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112
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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113
wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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114
retrieved
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| v.取回( retrieve的过去式和过去分词 )；恢复；寻回；检索（储存的信息） | |
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115
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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116
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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118
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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119
reciprocated
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| v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的过去式和过去分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
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120
creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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